


something with ink

by preromantics



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-21
Updated: 2010-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-10 17:31:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preromantics/pseuds/preromantics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quick drabble for the prompt: something with ink. <i>While they are on set this time around, Chris is different.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	something with ink

While they are on set this time around, Chris is different. Not in a way that is very straight forward, although Zach likes being able to see the way his acting has grown, the way he's more comfortable with really making Kirk _his_ this time around.

In some ways, he's different because of his absence from Zach's life -- as the time grew between movies, a summer of work on opposite sides of the country and Zach's growing unease around him. Not unease in the sense that it wasn't easy to be his friend, to sit around late at night and watch Pay-Per-View (usually movies, sometimes bad porn just for the hell of it.) More like unease in how Zach started not knowing how close to sit, what to do when Chris slumped down on his shoulder and then slid down to his thigh to sleep on the couch, like he didn't even know he was doing it, like he didn't even care how much Zach over-analyzed it all in his head by the light of the TV.

They fall back into each other pretty easily, and neither of them talk about how sometimes spending months at a time in New York was basically the same as avoidance, except for when Chris made jokes about it. (_'Especially when I had to go over and dust your house once a week just so the espresso machine didn't feel lonely, Zach' 'You just kept running out of your own import coffee and wanted mine, cheap ass.'_) So it wasn't a big deal.

Chris doesn't hang out between takes as much as during the first movie, either. Zach supposes that it was more by a sense of obligation during that one, since it was a new project, the biggest either of them had ever worked on, and it meant more to watch the whole production -- but Chris only sticks around for a few minutes when he's not needed unless there is some sort of crew and cast competition going on -- he'll never say no to a Scrabble tournament, (especially a pairs one, because Chris and Zach both know that they are unstoppable as a team, even if they were disqualified last time for knocking over a board mid-game because they found a word combination amusing. It wasn't Zach's fault, really.)

Chris usually goes to his trailer, and -- it's only the second week of filming, really, not enough to really establish routine, so Zach hasn't bothered going in to say anything, to grab food from craft services and sit on the little couch in Chris' trailer and listen to him try and figure out a crossword, or whatever he's doing inside.

Zach gets bored, though, on a day Zoe isn't present and John and Anton and Karl are all engaged in a DDR deathmatch -- Zach didn't even know that was still popular, and he's sort of anticipating a minor blow up from JJ if the shouting escalates -- so he wanders past make-up and past his own trailer and ends up at the door to Chris'.

Chris is bent over on his couch when Zach walks in, over a notebook instead of a crossword, writing -- he doesn't look up until he finishes his sentence, adding the end punctuation with a rather sharp jab to the page.

They don't say hi, that's not needed, but Chris looks up at him with a grin, still in his Starfleet uniform, closing his notebook and snapping the edge with it's holder -- it's a Moleskine, of course, and Zach smiles probably a little too fondly at that.

"You're going to wrinkle your uniform," Zach says, instead of anything else, because being in Chris' trailer without a quick reason for the first time since they've started filming this time feels nice, and also sort of like a reminder of how long it's been since he's just showed up at Chris' apartment with Noah and a grocery bag of things for them to try grilling and a notebook so they can play the list game over food. He's afraid saying anything else will come out reflecting that, like, _I've missed you, isn't that stupid?_

Chris just grins at him and stretches out on the couch. "I thought you'd never show up." He gestures at the place next to him, grinning broader. Zach notices there is ink on his fingers, smudged down the curve of his thumb as he sits.

"You have ink on your thumb," Zach says, laughing, settling back into the couch.

Chris goes to wipe it on his pants but Zach catches his wrist. "Really?" he asks, "are you a big hollywood type now? Don't ruin your pants and make the costume team girls cry."

Chris shakes his hand out and darts it up to rub the ink off on Zach's cheek, instead. "If I wanted to ruin my pants and make the costume team cry I wouldn't do it with ink," he says, one eyebrow raised high.

Zach stares at him for a minute and then rolls his eyes. "That was the worst innuendo," he says.

"I know," Chris says, "I'm off my game." He stretches down, wraps his arm around Chris' shoulders on the couch. He looks over at Zach seriously, "How are you? You've been avoiding me."

Zach isn't sure where to start with that -- "I haven't been a hermit," he says. "And I'm fine."

Chris sinks down into Zach's side like space is irrelevant between, even after all the time it's had to grow and become awkward. Zach leans his weight back evenly because he can't.

"You're better with me, right?" Chris asks, mostly deadpan towards the opposite side of the room.

Zach is comfortable. "Sure," he says, because he is, and he's not sure what is going on, really, but that's okay.


End file.
